


dutiful obedience, oh merciful me

by xwannaflyx



Series: Kishimoto Did the Girls Wrong [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Mikoto sort of murders someone in cold blood, Mikoto will fuck shit up for her children, a mother's love, the plotting of Danzo and the Uchiha Clan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 08:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17484602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xwannaflyx/pseuds/xwannaflyx
Summary: Mikoto is a dutiful daughter. This is why she obediently resigns from active duty and marries Fugaku. This is why she has two sons who she adores with all the love her parents never showed  her. This is why she stares silently as she watches her husband die so that her son, so that Konoha, may live.A mother's love should always have been feared.





	dutiful obedience, oh merciful me

**Author's Note:**

> an idea I had rolling around my head that I finally got motivated enough to write 
> 
> Kunoichi Week 2019 Day 7: free choice so I went for "A mother's love"

Mikoto was a dutiful daughter. 

When her father called her in not too long after her third successful jounin mission, she braced herself for bad news. She was not to be disappointed. 

“The Clan heir,” her father said, expression as unreadable and stern as always, “is to get married.” Mikoto said nothing. There was no question in that statement and she refused to help her father throw her life into chaos as always. “Fugaku will marry you,” he stated, fixing his fathomless black eyes on her, “and it will bring great honor on our family.”

Mikoto ignored the part of her brain that pointed out that this family and the Uchiha Clan in general was probably already drained of honor when their ancestor went mad and tried to kill and entire village. “Yes, Father,” she agreed, obedient to a fault.

“You will pull out active duty,” he added, eyes already dismissing her as he turned to stare out the window. 

Her fingers twitched up to her jounin vest, gently rubbing the rough material between her fingers. The vest that she had  _ earned _ with blood and sweat and tears and absolutely no support from her entire family or clan. The vest that was her greatest accomplishment and her greatest happiness. “Yes, Father,” she agreed. Dutiful. 

Fugaku and her wedding was a stoic but honorable affair, filled with the every single ritual necessary for a wedding of this caliber. She felt the dry press of Fugaku’s lips against her own, the veil fluttering down her back. She carefully pressed down the instinct that warned of danger, that warned of a predator standing too close to her. The only bright side of the ceremony was the bright, completely unrestrained support of Kushina, one hand holding tightly to Minato and the other waving enthusiastically, ignoring the disapproving glares and snickers of the rest of the clan. In a moment of mischievousness, she threw her bouquet with the perfect accuracy she used to throw her shuriken, watching with muted amusement as it hit an unsuspecting Kushina in the face. 

Obediently she married Fugaku and dutifully she carried her two sons, caring for them with all the love her father and mother could never show her. She coddled her darling Itachi, cooing over his accomplishment and smothering him with kisses despite his shy embarrassment. Weeks after she gave birth to Sasuke and held his tiny, squalling, precious form against her breast, she sees the growing avariciousness in Fugaku’s gaze as the village speaks of Itachi’s genius; she sees the way he pores over old sealed forbidden scrolls that speak of the unspoken Sharingan’s evolution and the necessary sacrifice. She cradled Sasuke to her breast, gently clucking under his chin and watching the unrestrained joy in his chubby face as he tried to catch her fingers. She smiled, perfectly restrained and appropriately calm as he pressed Itachi for more —more accomplishments, more details, more confidential information. She sat silently in meetings with the elders, village and clan, and silently watched the way light glinted dangerously off the white of Danzo’s smile. She remained silent as Fugaku grew angrier, and more avaricious, his growing demands from Itachi and his desperate searches through the forbidden scrolls which spoke of the Sharingan’s evolutions and the necessary sacrifices. 

The next meeting she attended verged on treason. The clan shouted of disrespect, of the purposeful exclusion of their clan and the undermining of their accomplishments. They spoke of how they could do better, do more. Mikoto remained silent. Dutifully, she remained kneeling during the meeting, saying nothing but remembering vividly what the forbidden scrolls demanded and the way Danzo stared at Itachi, the same dangerous smile always decorating his face. 

-x-

The next day, Mikoto sent Itachi off to school with a cheerful kiss and Sasuke to Kushina for babysitting. (“It’s good practice!” Kushina said cheerfully, giving her old friend a gently punch to the shoulder as the other hand cradled her growing belly, “I’ll make Minato do all the diapers,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper, her sly, always enthusiastic grin stealing across her face.) She dug her old jounin vest out of storage, carefully shrugging it back on and feeling the strange familiar-unfamiliar weight of it settle on her shoulders again. She tired her headband across her brow, letting the weight of it settle deep and shake the gentle mother and dutiful daughter out of herself. 

Mikoto, dressed now, visited an old friend in Interrogation. Yamanaka Shuuko, married and always alert, looked from Mikoto’s headband to her eyes and smiled mysteriously before cheerfully greeting her old friend. She fussed as she quickly welcomed Mikoto into her office, smiling widely in greeting. 

“Darling, it’s been too long!” Shuuko greeted, bussing her cheeks carefully and drawing her old friend in for a fierce hug. “Oh, sit!” she exclaimed, gesturing Mikoto swiftly into a seat and taking a seat in her own chair on the other side. “This  _ is _ certainly a flashback!” she added, her eyes tracing her friend to the gleam of her carefully maintained headband to the clean and carefully stored jounin vest. “It’s rather refreshing to see you like this again,” she added, offering a smaller, more intimate smile. 

“Shuuko,” Mikoto replied, letting all the warmth of their years of service and friendship warm her voice. “It honestly has been too long,” she continued, smiling wryly at her always perceptive friend. 

“How are your children? Sasuke and....” her voice trailed off, the trademark icy blue eyes sharpening, “Itachi...was it?”

Mikto smiled humorlessly, always willing to play along with Shuuko’s games. “Sasuke is probably terrorizing our venerable Hokage with Kushina,” she said with a little laugh, “and Itachi is...well.”

“Of course,” Shuuko agreed. Her smile spoke of the secrets that coated the shadows of Torture and Interrogation; it was a reminder of all that their generation and she, specifically, had survived. “We hear so much about him here. He’s seems like a very clever boy,” she added, smile gentling slightly. 

Mikoto merely smiled harmlessly, willing to play the game but unwilling to speak of her sons when the situation was so uncertain. 

“Oh!” Shuuko suddenly exclaimed, half rising from her sheet. There was a strangely deliberate seeming movement of her arms which knocked askew her papers, revealing reports written under the papers she had moved. “I’m a terrible host! I’ve forgotten to offer you tea!” Shuuko's hip bumped the table as she turned, her movements strangely uncoordinated for the usually graceful woman. The movement dislodged another pile. “I’ll just be a moment,” she said cheerfully, offering Mikoto a wink as she turned to the electric kettle in the back of the office. The electric kettle that was always broken. 

Mikoto immediately flashed her eyes red, absorbing the image before her, the movement of Shuuko, the various fluttering pages, the slow settling of the revealed reports. She memorized it all, her eyes quickly scanning for any details from the still papers, unwilling to miss anything that could help her save her family. Her boys. 

“Oh dear,” Shuuko cooed, turning with a guilty smile. “It seems my kettle is on the fritz again. Mikoto, darling, I don’t suppose...?”

“Of course darling,” Mikoto agreed with a little laugh, taking the kettle from Shuuko’s hands and calling warmth to her hands. She exchanged matching sly smiles with her friend over her hands, remaining silent as the water slowly came to a boil. 

Shuuko smiled benignly carefully steeped the tea, smiling mysteriously with her friend as they enjoyed a lovely cup of tea. 

-x-

“My darling boy,” she said, gently cupping Itachi’s cheek in her hands. “I’m so very proud of you,” she continued, pressing a careful kiss to Itachi’s forehead. 

Blushing faintly, Itachi carefully shifted Sasuke’s weight in his arms, “Mother,” he grumbled, squirming at her overt affection. “I’m just dropping Sasuke off with Auntie Kushina and then going to school. Please stop being embarrassing.”

Just for that, Mikoto pressed three more kisses on Itachi’s cheeks before carefully pressing one to a sleeping Sasuke’s forehead as well. “Well, Mother loves you anyway,” she crooned, smiling fondly as her usually stoic little boy grumble again but still seemed pleased. With a careful bow, Itachi shifted Sasuke’s weight again then turned and walked out of the compound. 

Mikoto felt a little smile grow on her face as she watched her sons walk away to safety. Turning, she allowed the the careful stillness that had made her such a competent jounin steal through her. “Mikoto?” Fugaku called from inside the house.

Mikoto carefully steeped the tea just the way Fugaku liked. She carefully served the tea for Fugaku, the cup making no sound against the table from long practice. Fugaku hummed in thanks, eyes still focused on his scroll, one hand reaching for the cup. He picked up the cup took several swallows, grunting at the particularly bitter taste. He took a couple more drinks, frowning a little in confusion at the strange taste despite the familiar scent. 

She watched silently, smiling faintly as he began coughing, confusion filling his eyes as he turned his eyes on his wife. She reached forward and gently cupped her husband’s cheek, remembering both the moments of him holding their sons so carefully as well as the dangerously greedy look of his eyes in recent months. “I can still be merciful,” she whispered gently, watching impassionately as he twitched and fell the ground. She watched as he twitched then eventually stilled, eyes glazing in under forty seconds. 

Straightening, she turned away from her husband, picking up the jounin vest she had hidden behind a cabinet and shrugging on the once again familiar weight. Mikoto then carefully straightened her husbands crumpled form, laying him straight on the floor and gently closing his blank eyes before almost tenderly pulling a blanket over his corpse. 

Turning, she fetched her blades from their display place on the wall and meticulously strapped them on, the movements returning like an old friend. She briefly knelt in front of the memorial plate she had for her parents, for the quintessential Uchiha parents which she and Fugaku had both been raised by. 

Rising again, she walked resolutely from the compound, knowing she would likely be unwelcome from now on and willing to face the consequences of her choices. 

-x-

“Mikoto!” Minato exclaimed, half rising from his seat then freezing as the scrolls around him quivering dangerously. “Er, I don’t suppose you’ll be okay with me not standing?” he asked sheepishly before noticing the stillness of her face and her clothing. He sat heavily, eyes fixed on his wife’s best friend even as scrolls rolled off and fell to the floor. “This is not a happy visit,” he concluded slowly, reading her expression carefully. 

Mikoto knelt on one knee, resting her wrist on the upraised knee with casual familiarity, like any other ANBU reporting in. “Lord Hokage,” she said calmly, keeping her head bowed to the floor, “I have come to report a crime.”

Minato dragged a tired hand down his face, carefully rubbing his temples. “I know that the Uchiha Clan is unhappy,” he began, expression screwed with uncertainty and discomfort, “but I’m trying my best to allow for —”

“I have murdered the Clan Head of the Uchiha,” she said gravely, raising her head to meet his old friend’s husband’s shocked gaze. She didn’t flinch as ANBU appeared around her, a blade suddenly resting against the hollow of her throat. “However, the crime runs even deeper through into the corruption of Konoha itself. I think you, yourself, are well aware of what I speak,” she added, her gaze an accusation. 

Minato had stilled, his expression frozen in neutrality. “I didn’t expect this response from you,” he finally said, something old and exhausted in his voice. 

“I am retired, not deaf, Lord Hokage,” she said calmly, keeping her voice and gaze flat. “We both speak of the endangerment of Konoha and her peace. However I—” she paused, trying to control the snarl that had slipped into her voice. The blade pressed closer, a single bead of blood running down the length of the blade. “However, I,” she snarled, giving up on her neutral politeness, “also speak of the blatant attempted exploitation of my son and the manipulation of Uchiha and Konoha politics.”

“Mikoto,” Minato whispered, remembering the hours the three of them had spent laughing over Sasuke and Itachi’s antics as well as the moments spent cooing over Kushina’s ultrasounds. He remembered the brightness of her smile and the gentleness of her gaze when she held her sons. 

“You did nothing, Lord Hokage,” Mikoto said dangerously, her eyes burning with anger. The blade pressed closer and she knew her Sharingan would be spinning slowly in her eyes. “You did  _ nothing _ so I acted to  _ save my children _ .”

“You’re right,” Minato agreed slowly, remembering the pages upon pages of suspicion handed to him by his ANBU, by his Torture and Interrogation unit, by his own wife. “I did nothing,” he agreed again, meeting her gaze without fear. 

“Lord Hokage,” the mysterious ANBU holding the sword intoned, something carefully neutra about his voice. 

“Minato!” The door burst open, Kushina flying in with a firm hand supporting her belly and her blood red hair flying behind her. Mikoto didn’t even twitch, keeping her burning stare fixed on the Hokage who had failed her, who had failed her children. “Mikoto—”

“Mother!” Mikoto flinched then, moving in a blur to knock the blade away, turning just in time to catch her little Itachi who threw himself at her, almost squishing a slow blinking Sasuke between the two of them. “Mama,” he whispered, the childish moniker falling from his lips with a little tremble and watery eyes. He clung to her, confused but wanting comfort nonetheless. 

“Darling,” she crooned, shooting a dangerous glare at the ANBU that looked ready to point a blade her again. “You’re back early,” she added with a little weak laugh.

“Uchihas practically broke into my house,” Kushina grumbled, carefully tucking her wild hair behind one ear. “Screaming accusations and a lot of bullshit but I knew you’d done something stupid, Mikoto-chan.”

“You’re a mother too, Kushina,” Mikoto said, meeting Kushina’s gaze with a fierce snarl, “is there anything you would not do for your children.”

Kushina met her gaze straightforwardly, no deceit in her blue eyes. “There is nothing I would not do to protect my precious people,” she swore, something like understand flashing in her suddenly burning red gaze. “Nothing.”

“Kushina.” Minato’s whisper sounded like understanding, like a capitulation. 

“Mama,” Itachi whispered into Mikoto’s neck, something awfully tearful in his voice. 

Mikoto turned her attention to her sons, gentling her words and her gaze and her hands to carefully cradle them close to her. “I warned you of Danzo, Minato,” Kushina said quietly, meeting her husbands gaze over the small family. “I warned you of the resentment. Of what such anger could drive a person to do. I, of all people, understand what it is like to be hated and anger against everyone else for it.” Her voice is an accusation and her eyes as cool assessment, “I warned you.”

Minato looked from his tangled scrolls to the clinging family kneeling on the other side of his desk to his wife’s flat smile. He remembered how many reports crossed his desk; they were all only vaguely as single units but added together they spoke of something truly rotted at the core of Konoha. “I should have listened,” he admitted, looking at his steadfast, unwavering wife and remember how he had faltered at the face of the Elder Council’s uncompromising nature, at the face of their disapproval and control. “I will listen,” he agreed, meeting Kushina’s slow growing smile with regret. “I still have to arrest her,” he pointed out slowly, cautiously.

“I know,” Mikoto said suddenly, rising from her crouch and causing some of the ANBU to twitch to their weapons. “I’m not pulling a weapon around children, amateurs,” she snapped at them impatiently, gently prying Itachi’s hands off her clothes as she carefully handed Sasuke’s newly-asleep form to Kushina. “I have always been prepared for that.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Kushina said, tone benign if it weren’t for the bloodthirsty smile that spread over her face. “I’ll watch over them,” she added, her once again blue eyes meeting her old friend’s with an equally dangerous but slightly fonder smile.

“I’ll entrust it to you,” Mikoto said quietly. She looked at her eldest son, whose lip trembled but he kept his face bravely still. How young he was and how loved; how hard he tried for her and the family despite everything they couldn’t offer back. With a softer smile, she gently poked her son on the forehead, causing his eyes to fly up to hers with surprise. “I love you, my darling boy,” she reminded him gently, stroking a hand down his cheek. 

“Love you too, Mama,” Itachi whispered, obediently taking a careful step and remaining still as Kushina cupped his shoulder. 

“We’ll sort this out,” Minato said, quiet but fierce. He had failed once, he would not again. “I swear to you, Mikoto.” Mikoto met his gaze and offered him a cool nod before calmly following the respectfully silent ANBU guard out of the room. 

“I’ll kill him if you can’t fix things,” Kushina warned, her hair rising off her shoulders like a bloody tornado. “Just a warning.” Neither needed elaboration as to who she spoke of. 

“I know,” Minato agreed, faint but resolved. His wife offered him a gently encouraging smile, expression softening for a brief moment before firming. She turned away, hand gentle as they guided Mikoto’s children away, probably taking them home. Minato let out a quiet sigh into the suddenly silent and empty room. Yes, he would fix things. This was not the world he wanted his Naruto to be born into, this world of corruption and deceit and desperation. He would fix it. 


End file.
